Armistice
by stcrmpilot
Summary: For the prompt, "You'll always be safe with me." Set between 4.2 and 4.3.


Despite all claims to the contrary, Narvin really must admit to himself that exploring this alternate world has proved rather lackluster without Romana. It isn't, of course, that he _wants_ her natural tendency to attract every ounce of trouble present in a fifty mile radius lurking at his back the whole time. In fact, this trip has been relatively smooth compared to their others, and he is relishing what so far has come pretty close to his idea of a vacation. But he can't deny that with the danger of taking her along often comes interest, and opportunity, and he's grown tired of wandering around a useless Gallifrey full of useless beings in the most miserable weather he's seen in this lifetime.

On the other hand, camping out in a one person CIA-issue tent while the portal makes its way back is much less hazardous with two than three. Narvin doesn't think it's a terrible loss.

A low rumble of thunder rolls in from somewhere altogether too close for his liking. Lying wide-awake on a thin bedroll, he feels the ground tremble beneath him, and officially gives up all hope of getting any sleep. The corresponding flash of lightning illuminates Leela beside him, wrapped snugly in a blanket, curled up fast asleep with her back pressed against the wall of the tent. It's times like this that he almost—_almost_—envies her comfort out in the elements, her ability to adapt to any world the portals throw at her. He might even be willing to tell her so, in the name of armistice, except for the fact that Romana has apparently been much more effective at curbing her _enthusiasm_ than he's ever given her credit for, and lacking such a deterrent she's been slagging him off at every opportunity all day.

He doesn't know what he expected.

Lightning strikes again, so close now that the sound and light arrive almost simultaneously. Narvin flinches at the deafening crack of thunder, and starts again a nanospan later when Leela jumps into a sitting position, knife in hand, looking around wildly for the source of the noise. Momentarily certain he's about to have his throat slit, he scrambles as far away from her as he can (about two inches) and raises a handful of blanket between them.

"_Pandak's ghost_, put that thing away!" he shouts, over the pattering of rain on the tent.

"Romana?" Leela's sightless gaze fixes on him, then snaps back up to the sky. "Are we under attack?"

"It's me," he hisses. He softens his tone. "There's nothing wrong, it's just thunder. Put that away before you hurt someone."

Adrenaline draining visibly from her body, Leela sags back onto her bedroll. After a moment's consideration she tucks the knife back under her pillow, and huffs out a sigh.

"Don't know how you managed to get to sleep at all," mutters Narvin, his hearts still working at resuming their normal pace. "Tired from a long day of insulting me, are you?"

To his surprise, Leela doesn't offer a witty comeback. Wide-eyed, she looks up as a fresh bout of lightning crackles overhead, and tugs her blanket back up around her shoulders.

"I did not mean to frighten you," she says quietly.

Narvin blinks. "You didn't- oh, whatever. Can't you try just a bit harder to not stab me in the future?"

"That is unlikely," she says, though her heart clearly isn't in it. Her brow is creased in an expression of concentration; she worries her lip between her teeth. He watches as her head twitches towards each sudden sound, tracking their source instinctually as she would any threat, and he watches the lightning periodically throw her features into sharp relief, tension evident in the way she holds herself under the blanket. She's afraid, he realizes, with a certain degree of alarm. Suddenly he very much wishes he wasn't the only other person here.

Attributable no doubt to a moment of weakness brought on by his tired, cold, somewhat damp state, Narvin moves back onto his bedroll and then a bit further. "Leela?" he asks cautiously. "Are you… alright?"

This alone seems enough to break Leela's concentration. She tilts her head, so that she would be looking right at him. Not for the first time, her sense of direction unnerves him.

"I am fine," she replies, in a particular tone that suggests she would like to be fine, and is perhaps adjacent to fine, but hasn't quite gotten there yet.

"It, er… it shouldn't be much longer," he offers. "If K9's done everything correctly the portal will be back in a couple spans."

"Not long to you," she counters.

"Well… yes."

There's a long pause.

"I want Romana," she murmurs. "She should be here."

"Yes," he says. He hesitates. "Leela…"

"I am scared, Narvin," she says shakily, and that shuts him up. "I should not be scared. It is only a storm. It is not more dangerous just because I cannot see it, but it… it is loud, and so dark, and Romana should be here. She would…"

She trails off, and doesn't continue. Narvin would like to think it's completely unrelated to the fact that he's reached out and taken her trembling hand in his, but that would be a stretch even for him.

"Romana makes you feel safe," he says quietly. At this volume, the rain nearly drowns out both of them.

Leela nods. "I trust her," she murmurs.

The subtext makes something tighten painfully in his chest—she doesn't trust him, not enough—even though he knows this, and knows she shouldn't. He's hardly done anything to deserve it. Lately, however, trapped away from his home and life and people, Gallifrey's fate left to the three of them, he's found himself afflicted by the horrid desire for camaraderie. Friendship, even. And it's surely nothing more than the shock of losing just about everything he's ever known—but then again he's lost just about everything he's ever known, and now they've lost Brax, too, and he _aches _to be trusted by the two people he has left. To have it known, absolutely and irreparably, that he would do anything for them.

He shuts his eyes, so it feels just a bit more like he's talking into the empty night. "You're safe, Leela," he says. "You'll always be safe with me."

The pause is much longer this time. Narvin tries to forget he said anything, and that Leela ever even woke up, and that he's actually awake at all, though it doesn't work very well. When eventually he runs out of patience and opens one eye, he's more than a little surprised to see her smiling.

"It is very cold in here, Narvin," she says.

He blinks, wondering if she wants him to offer her his blanket. He gets his answer when she, always one to take initiative, wriggles over to his side of the tent and works her way under the blanket with him, tossing an arm over his waist in the process.

"Oh," says Narvin, recoiling at first but putting an arm around her in return before he quite knows what's happening. "Oh, er…"

Leela tugs him closer, tucking her head beneath his chin and making herself at home. "Hush," she says. "I am trying to sleep."

It's only later—an embarrassingly long, distracted time later—that he realizes he couldn't possibly be a source of warmth for her. It's not a terrible loss.


End file.
